Friday, April 1, 2005
April 2005
It's National Poetry Month again. The 10th.
It is the right weather for poems: gentle drizzle spins the morning grey and no sun glints will strike the monofilament we cast across chill water.
Some days poems lie deep and will not rise to the lure no matter the artful cast and skill of retrieve, no matter that we hold our breath and will the sudden rush of poem to line.
Today I am archetypal fisherman, intent on the moment, alert to signals from below the surface. The rod bends, a poem has taken hold.
-- Glen Sorestad

Labels:

Permalink | | posted by jau at 1:21 AM


0 more:

Post a Comment

< home